


the pain of loving you

by wingedgrace



Series: i trust no one else 'verse [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Batfamily, Batfamily Angst, Batfamily Feels, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Platonic Cuddling, all the feels, soft brotherly love and hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25117159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingedgrace/pseuds/wingedgrace
Summary: Jason was huddled on the couch with his cellphone in hand, knees hugged to his chest, hoodie and sweatpants already damp with tears; face red and tear-streaked and absolutely miserable.“Jay?” If his heart beat any faster, Dick was pretty sure it would shatter his ribcage. “What happened?”(an angsty oneshot, set some time after the end ofi trust no one else.)
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne
Series: i trust no one else 'verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1819246
Comments: 26
Kudos: 366





	the pain of loving you

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: So I realized I really like the end of the last fic and this oneshot is not really a great end to this au. So consider it like, an alternate continuation of the series? But for all intents and purposes, the story ended already. This is just a "hey this could maybe happen" type thing.

Dick woke up to the sound of sobbing.

Not just gentle crying, but the kind of deep, heaving sobs that leave a person out of breath. The type of exhausted weeping that comes after most tears are already spent.

His first sleep-confused thoughts were that he must have woken himself up crying. In his groggy state of mind it took him a little too long to realize that first of all, he couldn’t remember having a nightmare, and secondly – most importantly – the sound was not coming from himself, but from outside the bedroom.

Jason’s bedroom. Because he was living in Jason’s apartment, and sleeping in Jason’s bed, and Jason had insisted he was fine with sleeping on the couch –

Jason.

Oh, God, what had happened? He jumped off the bed – or tried to, anyway – and ended up falling off, legs tangled in the bedsheets. He kicked them off impatiently, thoughts pulsing at the speed of his heartrate. Had someone died? Tim? Damian? Had Maxwell Dossey somehow survived? Had the Joker destroyed anyone else’s life?

Still half asleep, Dick sprint-stumbled to the room he knew Jason had been sleeping in, not knowing what to expect and pre-emptively panicking.

Jason was huddled on the couch with his cellphone in hand, knees hugged to his chest, hoodie and sweatpants already damp with tears; face red and tear-streaked and absolutely miserable.

“Jay?” If his heart beat any faster, Dick was pretty sure it would shatter his ribcage. “What happened?”

Wordlessly, Jason held the phone out to Dick.

He took it, half expecting to read an article headline about the death of someone they loved, but it was just a text.

A text from Bruce.

_Jason,_  
_I love you._  
_Happy Birthday._

Oh.

Oh.

He held up his hands in offer of a hug. “Can I –“

Jason nodded immediately, and Dick wasted no time in sitting beside his sweaty, tear-soaked, shaking little brother and wrapping him in the biggest hug he could. He always asked first because Jason always asked before touching him, and it seemed like the right thing to do. Jason was always mindful of Dick’s triggers and issues with consent, and it was the least he could do to extend the same courtesy back.

But now was not the time to get caught up in his own trauma. He pulled Jason closer to himself and Jason leaned into the embrace desperately.

“He, he promised,” Jason sobbed. “Dick, he promised, he promised, and I can’t handle it, I can’t –“

“It’s okay, Jason,” Dick said, heart aching for his proud, hug-shy, angry, hurt, wounded younger brother. He’d only seen Jason cry a few times, and only then because Jason had been severely triggered by something that reminded him of his less than stellar childhood. He wished Jason would start to become okay with asking for hugs or other types of comfort _before_ he reached his breaking point. To see that he didn’t have to feel silly or weak for wanting to be cared for. That he didn’t have to be afraid of driving people away.

“I can’t handle it,” Jason gasped, breaths picking up to a nearly hyperventilating speed, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t I can’t –“

“Jason.” Dick pulled his brother’s head close to his own, so he could talk quietly and calmly and right beside Jason’s ear, to hold his attention. He remembered Jason doing that to him a few times, to talk him down from a panic attack. “I need you to take slower breaths, alright?”

“I told him –“ Jason sucked a breath in – “not to –“ another breath – “anymore –“

“Jason,” Dick said in what he hoped was a firm tone. “Breathe with me. In, and out.” He exaggerated his breaths so Jason could easily feel his chest expand and contract, coaching Jason when to inhale and exhale.

It felt…good, to be able to help someone like this. He hated that Jason was hurting so much emotionally, of course, but. It felt really good, to have recovered enough that he could actually help Jason. He wasn’t the same cowering, fearful shell of himself that Dossey had carved out. He was doing better now. So much better that this time he could be the one supporting Jason instead of the other way around.

Jason’s breaths gradually slowed down, although he was still crying. “Dick,” his breath hitched.

“Yeah.” Dick rubbed his hand soothingly up and down Jason’s back.

“He hadn’t,” Jason gulped. “He hadn’t told me Happy Birthday, since. Since I came back.”

Dick closed his eyes, willing himself to stay calm. The fact that Bruce hadn’t acknowledged his son’s birthday _since returning from the dead_ because of petty disagreements and arguments was, well, completely horrible and perfectly in character.

“Why does he have to try now,” Jason whispered, voice rough. “Why, now that I told him he has to stop pretending to be my dad. I can’t handle him pretending to care, I can’t, Dick, he’s only saying this to try and win me back and then he’ll be back to his regular bullshit when he’s reeled me in and I can’t deal with that cycle anymore, Dick, I can’t –“

“I understand, Jason,” Dick interrupted wryly, in an attempt to prevent Jason from working himself back up. “I’m probably the only other person in the world who understands exactly what you mean. Lucky us, both growing up with Bruce for a dad.”

Jason shook his head, hair flopping against Dick’s arm. “It’s different for you. You’re strong enough to forgive him, to put up with it and I, I can’t anymore, I can’t, Dick. I can’t.”

“If anything you’re the strong one,” Dick admitted. “I don’t think I’d be able to say goodbye to Bruce for good. I’ll always come back to do what he needs me to do, no matter how much I hate the undercover job or the Batman mantle or faking my death or whatever it is.”

“I’m so fucking weak,” Jason rasped. His voice was thin and small and it pricked painfully at Dick’s heart. “It’s just a text, and it’s stupid that it bothers me so much, but he needs to stop; I can’t handle it. I asked him to stop.”

“You’re not weak,” Dick said gently. “Bruce is being an ass. I’m the expert, alright, I’ve spent more time with him than anyone else except Alfred. Believe me when I say this is 100% his fault and not yours.”

Jason sniffed, a thick sound that betrayed how hard he’d been crying.

“Remember what you said to me about being angry?” Dick was playing with fire, here, bringing up another emotionally vulnerable moment while trying to calm Jason down from this one. “That you were tired of being angry all the time?”

“Mm,” Jason acknowledged, quiet.

“This is part of it. Part of feeling less anger is, well, feeling everything else a little more.” Dick smiled into Jason’s hair. “You’re definitely not weak, okay? This is normal, healthy, feeling things like this.”

Jason didn’t reply. Dick fought the urge to fill the silence, because that would sort of weaken his statement that there was nothing wrong with Jason. If he tried to come up with solutions, Jason might feel like he was dealing with his emotions wrong and Dick was explaining how to do it correctly. That was the last he wanted to do.

So Dick simply sat and held his brother. He relished the simplicity of physically holding someone he loved. He was safe, and Jason was safe, and it was glorious moments like this that Dossey’s torture seemed a lifetime ago. That things weren’t perfect and probably would never be, but Jason was warm and alive and willing to accept Dick’s embrace.

“I, uh.” Jason made a scoffing snort noise, sounding a little closer to normal. “I think I’d like the anger back now, thanks.”

Dick chuckled sympathetically and shifted his arms to hold Jason tighter. “You don’t mean that.”

“No, I don’t.” Jason sighed. “Fuck.”

They were both silent after that, giving Dick the time to memorize the moment. When something like a door slamming shut threatened to trigger a flashback, he found that reminding himself of happy memories, of safe memories, was an excellent distraction. Jason feeling secure enough to be vulnerable and cry and talk about his emotions was extremely safe, since there was no way in hell Jason would expose himself this raw if he was in a dangerous situation. It also meant that Dick was now a member of the exclusive People Jason Trusted Club. And with Jason’s Outlaw friends missing or dead, that inner circle probably consisted of only Dick Grayson (and possibly Alfred). He absolutely hated how Jason believed shutting everyone out was necessary to protect himself, but. He was also selfishly happy he had proof that Jason loved and trusted him deeply.

“He sent the text at twelve AM exactly,” Jason said bitterly, jarring Dick out of his thoughts. “Like he was waiting around to wish me Happy Birthday as soon as possible.”

“He’s probably overly aware of trying to be a decent human being, after you called him out for.” Dick hesitated. “Being the way he is.”

“You can say the word abuse, Dick,” Jason snapped, a little harshly.

Dick grimaced. “I know.”

“If it makes you uncomfortable to say the word, good.” Jason sounded old beyond his years and so, so young at the same time. “It should. You can’t just brush off how he treated you, even if he says he won’t do it again.”

Dick clenched his jaw. “Jason…”

All at once, the tension bled out of Jason’s limbs. “Sorry. I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I just, can you promise me something, Dick?”

“What?” Dick asked flatly.

“If it’s too much for you, if, if Bruce hurts you again, or you feel trapped by him, or afraid, can you promise to tell me?” Jason spoke softly. “You just. You remind me so much of my mom.”

Dick froze.

“And she,” Jason swallowed, “she’d put up with anything, because she loved Willis, because she didn’t think there was any other options, because she had no one to talk to, and, the drugs would –“

Jason was shaking again, words interrupted by a sob. “– escape Willis and our shitty, shitty life, and I watched her shrivel up and die and I couldn’t save her and I can’t let that happen again, please, promise me. I swear, this is the only thing I’ll ever ask you to do, please.”

Dick was still reeling from the implications of being compared to Jason’s drug addicted mother who committed suicide to escape a situation brought on by abuse. Added to that was the shock of Jason telling him what to do. Jason knew how much Dossey’s complete control had broken Dick, and in the early days of recovering from the physical and mental torment, one of the things Jason had promised Dick was that he would never exert control over him. For Jason to ask this of him, something close to breaking that promise in two, it had to be fundamentally important to him.

“Okay,” Dick whispered. Even if part of him wondered if he was already too deep into Bruce’s clutches; already loved his dad too deeply to hold his faults against him. “Okay, I promise.”

Jason went limp with relief, face still leaking tears but shoulders no longer shuddering.

Dick didn’t know if he could keep to that rule if it was just for him and his own wellbeing. He didn’t think he was strong enough to do it solely for himself, but if it was for Jason’s peace of mind, he would try. He’d shoulder the weight of the burden because it was his turn, now, to do things to help heal Jason’s mind. It was time to repay his debt of leeching off Jason for a year.

No, that wasn’t right. Jason had repeated numerous times that Dick had never been a burden, and that he’d even helped Jason from feeling utterly, hopelessly alone.

This was not Jason demanding a promise by guilt-tripping him with stories of his dead mom. This was Jason being vulnerable and open and honest, and caring for Dick’s safety.

“I promise,” Dick said again, feeling like he meant it completely this time.

Jason responded by pulling away from the hug just enough to free his arms and then wrapping them fiercely around Dick’s waist.

Nothing was perfect, and it probably never would be. But Dick wasn’t struggling to survive another round of torture in a cold cell, alone, forgotten, cut off from his family. He was safe and loved and home. And that was more than enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly did not expect to continue this, but then I had some feelings I wanted to work out and project onto my favourite batboys. and I said to myself, hey, _i trust no one else_ helped me work out my shit before, let’s try that again! So you guys got a oneshot out of it. Hope you enjoyed :)


End file.
